


Invocatio

by Sophia_the_Scribe



Series: The Scribe's Poesy [23]
Category: Christian Bible, Invictus - William Ernest Henley
Genre: Gen, Parody, Poetry, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_the_Scribe/pseuds/Sophia_the_Scribe
Summary: A parody, though not intended to be funny, of William Ernest Henley's "Invictus."
Series: The Scribe's Poesy [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1182590
Comments: 4
Kudos: 1





	Invocatio

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Since this is a parody, probably less than half of it belongs to me. The rest, as well as the quoted text of the original poem, belongs to William Ernest Henley.

**Invocatio**

Out of the night that covered me,  
Black as the pit from pole to pole,  
I thank the only God that be  
For His salvation of my soul.

In the fell clutch of devils’ hordes  
To Him alone I’ve cried aloud.  
Under the bludgeonings of swords  
My head is bloody but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears  
All shadow’s Horror then shall fade,  
And so the menace of the years  
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

He set me on the straitened gate  
Though charged with punishments my scroll;  
He is the master of my fate:  
He is the captain of my soul.

* * *

A/N: Invictus, the name of the original poem, is Latin for Unconquerable; Invocatio means an Invocation or Calling Upon, usually used in reference to God.

In case you want to see how “accurate” my parody is, I’ve quoted the original text below (thanks to Wikipedia):

**Invictus**

by William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,  
Black as the pit from pole to pole,  
I thank whatever gods may be  
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance  
I have not winced nor cried aloud.  
Under the bludgeonings of chance  
My head is bloody but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears  
Looms but the Horror of the shade,  
And yet the menace of the years  
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,  
How charged with punishments the scroll,  
I am the master of my fate:  
I am the captain of my soul.


End file.
